


Such A Sweet Surprise

by crossroadswrite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blowjobs, Bunker Fic, Dean really likes pie, Established Relationship, M/M, graceless!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 00:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1490053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas makes pie and Dean is very thankful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Such A Sweet Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my 1K FIC GIVEAWAY for skybluepinkwithyellowdots on tumblr :)
> 
> Title taken from 'Cherry Pie' by Warrant.

Dean wakes up feeling cold. In fact, he’s pretty sure that’s what woke him up. He frowns into his pillow and throws his arm out, feeling around his mattress for Cas, to pull him close so he can go back to sleep.

His hand closes around sheets, and Dean begrudgingly turns his head and peeks at where Cas should be and isn’t. He frowns and looks at the chair next to his bed, where Cas annoyingly likes to fold his clothes and put them – even when Dean they are about to have sex, the man insist in stopping to fold his clothes. The chair’s empty though.

Dean slowly gets up and looks around. Maybe he’s in the shower. He likes to take his clothes with him to the bathroom, especially after Dean got a little too excited with the expanse of Cas’ chest in the hallway and Sam caught them. He has never seen his brother look more perturbed, and they’ve seen a lot of gory shit in their days.

He slips his robe on and steps, almost bumping into Kevin who’s making his way down the hallway towards his room.

“Heya, Kev,” he greets.

“You can’t go in the kitchen.”

“What?” he frowns down at the boy.

“I went to get an apple and Cas almost flayed me,” he says, showing Dean the bitten apple he has in one hand.

“Oh-kay.”

“Oh, and he was making a mess. You better go check on that,” the teen advises, before biting into his apple and getting on with his life.

Dean makes his way to the kitchen, finding the door firmly shut and locked. What the-?

“Cas! What are you doing?”

There’s the distinct sound of something crashing and some cursing in an harsh language Dean can’t begin to understand before the door unlocks and Cas peeks his head out.

“Good morning, Dean,” he acknowledges.

Dean grins and pecks him on the lips, making the corner of Cas’ mouth tilt up slightly “Dude, what are you doing?” he asks, tilting his head “And can you please stop putting the fear of God in Kevin. The kid can’t even be in the same room with you with shitting himself,” he chastises, eyes wandering over Cas’s head to see the mess Kev was referring to.

Cas huffs “I did no such thing. I honestly requested that he keeps _out_ of the kitchen in the next hour or so for me to work.”

Dean presses his lips together “Since when do you cook? Do you even know how to turn the stove on?”

“If humans can do it, I’m certain I won’t find it a trying activity. And if I need any assistance with the kitchen appliances I will merely call for Sam.”

Dean’s a little offended at that “Okay, Gordon Ramsey, but don’t come crying to me when you burn your eyebrows off,” he grumps “And why can’t you call me for help. I’m way better than Mr. my-hands-are-too-big-for-normal-glasses in the kitchen department.”

Cas fidgets in his spot and smiles a little “It’s a surprise,” he whispers like it’s such a dirty little secret.

“A surprise?”

His angel nods solemnly “For you.”

“Oh!” Dean grins, “Okay then angel. I’m going to grab a shower. Shout if you need assistance.”

Castiel nods once before slamming the door in his face and wow _rude_.

Dean does grab his shower. And he gets dressed and settled on the couch with the remote by his arm and a book he borrowed from Charlie like a good boy. He stays out of the kitchen.

The truth is, surprises are on Dean’s list of things that are never good. The surprises in his life are always of the mother burning on the ceiling, little brother has demon powers, gets sent to purgatory as a side effect nature.

So, it’s only normal that after an hour of Sam walking back and forwards between the kitchen and his desk Dean’s a little bit jittery.

When Sam comes back for the fifth time, Dean finally breaks “Hey, what’s he doing in there?” he whispers, because even without his mojo Cas is a ninja.

His brother, being the unhelpful moose he is, shrugs and plops himself down on the couch, snagging the control from Dean and quickly changing channels to some documentary bullshit.

“Come on, Sammy. Just gimme something here, man,”

“Nope.”

“Sammy,” he whines, “come on, man! Do I have to worry about an eyebrowless boyfriend or something?”

“He’s not going to burn his eyebrows off, Dean.”

“You don’t know that. How about that time when you were ten and burnt _your_ eyebrows,” he argues.

“That was one time, Dean. One time!” Sam bitchfaces at him.

Dean chortles “Yeah and I still have the pics,” he gives his baby brother a shit eating grin.

Sam ignores him, turning to his stupid documentary, leaving Dean to worry and slowly die of curiosity.

He manages about one more minute, tapping his foot on the floor and throwing little glances at the hallway that leads to the kitchen. One minute and he’s jumping to his feet and striding purposefully towards the kitchen.

“Cas is going to kill you,” Sam throws at him.

Dean waves a hand, dismissing him quickly.

He’s a warrior, he’s a soldier, he powered through the apocalypse, hell and purgatory, he is the righteous man. Dean Winchester can face is graceless boyfriend.

Still he stops and knocks on the kitchen door instead of using the Winchester method of kicking it down and asking questions later.

Castiel opens the door and the first thing Dean’s senses register is the heavenly aroma of sweet cherry pie.

The next thing Dean sees is his angel, standing in the doorway with flour in his hair and cherry filling on his cheek, just by his mouth.

Well, Dean has a reputation to uphold and it’s not like he could resist Cas with cherry pie on him anyway. So he leans forward and licks it off his face slowly before starting to drop kisses on his angel’s mouth, tugging on his bottom lip before licking the seam of Cas’s lips.

Cas moans, clearly surprised by Dean’s sudden assault and drops his mouth open. Dean sweeps Cas’s mouth and good lord in heaven he tastes like pie.

He pushes Cas back into the kitchen, until they’re both in the kitchen.

When Dean pulls back, he’s got the silliest smile on his lips “You’re making me pie?” he asks, completely awestruck.

Cas smiles and leans ever so slightly into the hand Dean has framing his face.

 “It would appear so.”

Dean squeezes his hip and pulls Cas towards him, using a little more force than predicted and falling against the door, closing it decidedly.

Cas rolls his eyes at Dean’s eagerness and kisses him again, slow and sickeningly sweet and full of the things they don’t say, because Dean is a chicken shit, emotionally constipated adult and Cas learned all of his lessons from him.

“You’re so good to me, angel,” Dean whispers against Cas’ lips. Cas chuckles and pulls back smiling big at him, tugging on his hand, until Dean reluctantly let’s go.

“I have to take it out of the oven,” his angel smiles “and then we’ll have to wait for it to cool down a bit. It’s bad for your stomach to eat hot pasties,” he lectures.

Dean smirks at him and sighs dramatically “And what ever should we do in the meantime?” he says with his best woe is me voice.

Cas opens the oven and bends over, pulling down the sleeves of his shirt and taking out the pie, setting it on the counter.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” he hums, looking down at his work. Dean strides towards him and wraps his arms around his waist firmly, pulling Cas against his chest and hooking his chin over his shoulder.

“Any ideas?” he breathes against his ear, turning his head ever so slightly so he can kiss Cas’ neck. His angel shivers, his neck has always been a sensitive area after all. People wouldn’t believe how easily he can get Cas to moan only by sucking hickeys in that perfect expanse of skin.

“A few,” Cas murmurs, grounding his ass back against Dean’s groin.

“Hmm, I think I’m going to like this idea,” he mutters, spinning Cas in his embrace so he can take his mouth once more.

Cas hums into the kiss and opens his mouth as soon as Dean presses a little harder, allowing Dean’s tongue inside.

His angel is so so good to him. He can’t quite believe that he’s gotten so lucky, that he has something so good in his life after all the shit they went though, all the shit they will have to go through. And he tells Cas just that, using his hands to roam up and down his body, twisting one hand in his hair, gripping his shoulder, squeezing that sweet little ass, shoves his hands under the flour stained sweater to rake his short nails down his back, making Cas moan into his mouth even as he bites and sucks and licks his lips until their shiny and plump.

“Let me be good to you, angel,” he begs, fingers toying with Cas’ zipper, the other hand gripping his hip, thumb stroking it gently.

“You don’t-“ Cas gasps when Dean palms him through his jeans, his half-hard dick thick under Dean’s finger “You don’t have to,” he manages to stutter out.

Dean chuckles, eyes raking over his pretty angel’s features, all blown pupils and flushed cheeks.

“Well, I want to,” he murmurs, rubbing Cas through his denim jeans, revealing in the little breathy moan he lets out. Dean kisses him once on the lips before he moves to his neck, biting the place where shoulder meets neck, sucking a hickey next to Cas’s clavicle.

Slowly, he pops the button in Cas’ jeans open, dragging his zipper down, fingers flirting with Cas’ dick, skimming it ever so slightly before he pulls  back and starts tugging on the jeans, letting them pool on Cas’ ankles.

Dean gives him a smirk and a wink before dropping to his knees and nosing at the underside of Cas’ belly button, dropping little kisses and nips there, revealing in the way his angel’s muscles jump beneath his lips in anticipation.

He runs his hands over Cas’ legs, down and back up, hooking his thumbs on the hem of Cas’ boxers and pulling them down painstakingly slow, making sure to drag the band against Cas’ dick, making his little angel groan and let out a frustrated “ _Dean_.”

He chuckles and drags the boxers the rest of the way down, letting them pool next to Cas’ jeans. Cas’ dick curves up against his belly, fully hard now and screaming for attention.

Dean decides to ignore it for now, choosing to drop suck a mark on Cas’ illegal hips (seriously he could cut diamonds with that). One of these days, Dean’ll get his old camera out of storage and make Cas model for him.

Cas drops a hand down to Dean’s head and twists it in his hair, begging for attention “Dean, please.”

“You want something, angel?” he smirks up at him, batting his eyelashes a little because he knows Cas likes it when he does that.

Cas’ hand twist almost painfully in his hair, but he doesn’t push or pull. Knows better than to do that.

“Please, please, please,” he whines.

Dean takes pity on him and directs his attention to where Cas really wants him to. Wrapping a hand around the base of Cas’ dick, Dean opens his mouth and looks up at Cas’ flushed cheeks, hands gripping at the counter behind him. Then he takes him in his mouth, just the head at first, suckling on it until Cas mewls above him, breathe stuttering and just what Dean likes to hear.

He takes more of him in his mouth slowly, unhurriedly. They both know that Dean’s gag reflex is practically nonexistent (he’s still pretty sure that Cas made it that way when he rebuilt his body and no one can tell him otherwise).

Dean flattens his tongue to the underside of Cas’ dick and starts bobbing his head, setting a pace that works for both of them, slowly and surely wrecking Cas if the broken moans and stuttered breaths and prayers of Dean’s name are anything to go by.

Castiel grips at Dean’s shoulder, the one which used to have the handprint, like if he grips tight enough he can leave another one there. Dean half hopes he could, really.

Ever so slowly Dean takes all of Cas into his mouth, swallowing around him, before pulling back and doing it again, letting Cas fuck his throat because that always gets him there.

For good measure Dean reaches a hand to Cas’ backside and brushes his knuckles over Cas’ hole, catching on the rim but not pushing in, just to give that extra little push, an idea of what they’ll be doing later.

Dean pulls back and sucks on  the head of Cas’ dick before swallowing him back down and humming, his knuckle catching on Cas’ rim and that’s it folks, game’s over. Cas’ coming down Dean’s throat with a gasp like his orgasm sneaked up on him and sucker punched him on the gut.

Dean swallows it down and sucks Cas through it, mainly because Sam would throw a bitchfit if there was spunk on the kitchen floor.

Cast slumps against the counter, his thigh muscles trembling slightly under Dean’s fingers.

Dean smirks and pulls Cas’ boxers back up, tucking him in, before pulling his jeans up and zipping him, so he looks nice and presentable again.

He jumps to his feet and kisses Cas sloppily, sharing the taste of him. His angel’s hands migrate to Dean’s own jeans only to be bat away.

“Dean?” he asks, adorably confused.

Dean only smirks and tugs Cas towards the stools around the table, “Gonna have me some pie,” he explains.

“I don’t- Aren’t you?” Cas’ eyes dart down to make sure and yup, Dean’s sporting an impressive hard on.

He laughs a little and kisses Cas again “Lemme be clear angel. I’m going to eat some pie and _then_ I’m going to bend you over the counter and show you again you _thankful_ I am. Sound good?”

Castiel nods his head jerkily, fingers twitching against Dean’s bicep.

“Good,” Dean says cheerfully, pulling out a plate and a fork so he can finally dig into that pie.

Cas makes a point of sitting across Dean’s lap while he samples the produce of Cas’ work.

The pie is friggin’ delicious and Dean praises his angel for it, moaning around every forkful and dropping messy, pie filled kisses all over Cas’ face whenever he stops.

Turns out that the fact that Cas’ sitting on Dean’s lap comes in handy when Sam barges into the kitchen with Kevin hot on his trail.

“Ooh, pie!” the kid says, bypassing Sam’s gigantor body and moving towards the beautiful masterpiece sitting at the table.

Dean quickly grabs it and shields it protectively with his arm, all but growling out a “No.”

“Dean!” Sam says exasperatedly “I helped make that pie.”

“My pie, get your own damn pie, Sammy.”

Cas chuckles quietly in Dean’s lap, patting his cheek gently and offering Sam an apologetic smile that says he won’t get into this.

Sam huffs and throws his hands up “Fine whatever. Kevin and I are going out for McDonald’s and we’re not bringing you anything back.”

Dean shrugs and shoves another forkful in his mouth, swallowing it down happily before saying “Got my pie, got my Cas, couldn’t care less.”

Cas kisses him right on the mouth and Kevin makes a face muttering something like “Gross,” before walking out of the kitchen, thankfully dragging Sam with him.

“Guess we have the bunk all to ourselves,” Cas comments, eyes wide an innocent like Dean knows he’s not.

Dean smirks at him, eyes twinkling with all the possibilities “What ever should we do?”

Cas laughs, “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”


End file.
